X-Men #1: Life As We Know It

“All these roads are the same.” Etienne LeBeau spat onto the dusty highway as he leant back on his motorcycle and lit up a cigarette, his eyes casting around the empty plain of nothingness that seemed to surround them.

His companion, only a little younger, but exactly by how much it was impossible to say, was stood in the middle of the deserted highway, looking out into the distance, a hand held up against his eyebrows to the glare of the sun out.

“No.” The younger one shook his head and stuck out his tongue as if to swallow the air, probably only serving to fill his lungs up with god damn road dust, but he seemed not to notice… or care. “They all have a different taste, or feeling or whatever, you know?”

Whatever he was talking about, Etienne evidently did not know for he rolled his eyes but stayed quiet. His companion was often talking like this and he’d found it was probably better to just let him get on with it.

“Whatever you say, Nate.”

“I’ve been on this road before.” The one called Nate announced as he held up a hand to feel the swelteringly hot breeze blowing through him. “It’s a smug fucking road.” He turned away to look back at Etienne, staring right into his eyes.

“C’mon Nate, we gotta be making tracks.” He broke eye contact and finished his cigarette before flicking the still smoking butt to the ground and stepping down on the pedal, raring the bike back to life.

Nate stood there for a moment, his eyes still fixed on the other boy, but slightly out of focus. Etienne shifted in his position on the bike, uncomfortable.

“Nate?”

His eyes came back into focus and a smile crossed his features as he shrugged a little and climbed over onto the bike, sat behind Etienne, snaking his arms around the older boy’s chest as a handle.

“Alright then, here we go, right?”

The bike started moving and sped off down the road with the two of them clutched tightly together, as the mid-july air whipped past them, swelteringly hot. Etienne sighed on the bike as his brown hair swooped around his head, he’d always hated this time of year.